Jill’s brother, Steve is staying with us while he does a commissioned painting.
He has lived his art on Britain’s coast, studied the Masters by leaving college to walk the museums of Europe, obtained recognition from some of the world’s most respected judging boards, and camped and lived in some of the most gorgeous spots on earth.
He lost tallest man in the family this Christmas to one of his nephews, Bjorn; and goes a few rounds with Jill every day about the changing world of art and e-commerce. Their conversations range from the technical to profound.
Two things mark our most profound differences. I am a believer in Christ, and he is not, but he joins in the rhythms of our home and joins hands and is respectfully quiet while others pray. The more interesting one may be that I have spent much of my life accessible to up to hundreds of people.
He has spent most of his life privately, guardedly even.
It makes most of our conversations exploratory, tentative, and interesting. He sees the world in terms of color, light / lighting, mood, composition. I have never heard him use the word: beautiful. But make no mistake, he can take up brush and color and capture beauty on a painting almost as much as someone could describe its beauty and convey a feeling about the scene.
I spent most of my life describing beauty and life to others, making it accessible to them.
He has caused me to consider again, if I am able some times to pass a beauty through my eyes and writing to others, a reality, a loveliness for someone else to be moved by it — while failing to be as moved as the one to whom I made it accessible.
I can only hope that Peter Jackson enjoyed the Lord of the Rings a fraction of how much I was moved to tears and cheering, having already enjoyed Tolkien’s descriptions and action like drinking deeply of a innebriating wine.
So to you and to me, do you enjoy the world you are passing on to your children, again, maybe for the first time? Are you touched by the Hand of God who moves you to touch others in His Name? Mother Teresa was bereft of her visions and intimacies which had sustained her when she moved to Calcutta.
Yet she stayed.
Yet she stayed and milions were moved because of her. Even while the silence inside dried her soul.
This is a simple prayer. May you get to enjoy at least some of the beauty passing through you to others. If you know how to enlarge that beauty to yourself, share with the rest of us.